


Ever After

by wreathed



Category: The Office (UK)
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Love, Married Couple, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-02
Updated: 2010-09-02
Packaged: 2017-10-22 17:53:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/240887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wreathed/pseuds/wreathed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Tim and Dawn's happy ever after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ever After

She is breathtakingly beautiful to Tim (she has taken his breath, taken over his life, ever since her first day as their receptionist and her lending him a pen solely for the purpose of repeatedly throwing it at Gareth’s forehead), and he had always thought that if he ever got to see her dressed in white he would be sitting on the sidelines in a cheap suit, longing for one last look from her even though he should have stopped hoping long ago, even when watching the exchanging of their vows in some try-hard three star hotel.

But Lee is nowhere to be seen – Dawn did insist on him sending an invite (with plus one) to show no hard feelings _and all that, mate_ , but, just as they both expected, he did not promptly RSVP – and she is somehow _his_ , all his, as soon as this is over. He will hold her close once more to _Only You_ , they will have to listen to Brent on karaoke on seven separate agonising occasions (“It’s not karaoke if it’s your own stuff,” he will say. “You’re not dealin’ with amateurs anymore, yeah? It’s entertainment.”). His mother will cry over him flying the nest at the bright young age of thirty four, the guests (all of them – her deeply-fake-tanned friends from school, his entire extended family, their Office acquaintances) will at last depart, and then he’ll only have Dawn and the best honeymoon suite they could afford for the next week and a half.

*

“I’m so proud of you,” he tells her, smiling a little less uneasily than he always did in front of the documentary crew (though there’s not much in it, really). The letter lies freshly opened on their kitchen countertop. Scholastic will send her two titles to fill with colour.

“Even this’ll give me pittance,” she tells him over tea and toast. There are, of course, practicalities – whoever you choose. Turning the camera off isn’t the ending. “We need the money. We need to think about-”

“Happy to support you,” Tim says bashfully.

“I’ll ask Gareth if I can come back part time.”

“Don’t you dare. We’ve worked together ages already. You’ll get bored of me.”

“Never,” she grins. Still like a ray of sunshine to him. (Albeit one who _snores_ , who’d have thought it? – although even that he’d at first found pathetically endearing. And she hadn’t put up with him not doing his own laundry for a second. _Don’t even think of ever again sending these to your poor mother,_ she had said, pointing sharply to the pile of work shirts he was ineptly ironing as she strode past.)

“Guess I’m stuck with you then,” he smiles back.

“Sure we can cope on one salary for a little while?”

“Eh, I was never really going to do that psychology degree...Oh, god,” he says, looking up at the clock. (IKEA. Almost everything’s IKEA.) “I’ve got to go.”

“I’ll come back eventually,” she tells him candidly. “You can’t be the only one forever remaining at Wernham Hogg. Me back here, watching you steadily lose your soul...”

 _I lost it to you years ago,_ he wants to tell her, but in his head it sounds much too brashly romantic, much too false (either that, or much too true), and so he kisses her goodbye and hopes from that she’ll be able to tell what he really means.


End file.
